The Seventh Slayer

By Kantayra

Chapter Four

Ajaya laughed even harder when Fletcher Price was exactly the way Buffy had described him. Buffy quickly covered for her, handing her a tissue to put over her mouth in a desperate attempt to make it look like she was blowing her nose instead of cracking up.

Fletcher rolled his eyes in a long-suffering way, and the line of imposing-looking people flanking him on both sides did rather poor jobs of concealing their smiles.

“Greetings, Ms. Gupta,” Fletcher extended his hand to her in a hopeless effort to restore the dignity of his station. “My name is Fletcher Price. You can call me Mr. Price.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr…” Buffy abruptly elbowed Ajaya. “Um…Fletcher,” she quickly amended her form of address.

“Oh god,” he took off his glasses and began rubbing the bridge of his nose. “They’ve gotten to you, too!”

Behind him, Willow gave Ajaya a round of silent applause, and the old woman next to her stuck her tongue out at Fletcher’s back.

Ajaya began giggling hopelessly again. This time Buffy didn’t bother to try to cover it up but joined her instead.

“So nice to know that my skills as a comedian are enough to bring Slayers to their knees,” Fletcher huffed good-naturedly. “And you two can stop whatever you’re doing behind me,” he turned around to give Willow and the other old woman a nasty glare.

They both put on perfectly innocent straight faces until he turned his back to them again…at which point, they quickly gave each other a high five.

“Yes, well,” Fletcher persisted despite the new round of hysteria that passed through the room at two elderly woman acting like thirteen-year-olds, “despite our…less than professional appearance, we do have important matters do discuss.”

“Of course,” Buffy was still giggling slightly.

“Ms. Gupta…may I call you Ajaya? Ajaya, then,” he said after her nod, “we are here to assist you in any way that we can concerning the decisions you must now make about your life.”

“Decisions?” Ajaya asked, perplexed.

“Well, for one you’ve just been Called as a Slayer,” Fletcher said, getting into his topic. “You first must decide whether you wish to accept your Calling.”

“I-I don’t have a choice,” Ajaya looked confusedly at Buffy, “do I?”

“You will retain a Slayer’s abilities for the rest of your life no matter which way you choose,” Fletcher clarified. “Whether you actually decide to use those abilities to fight off the forces of darkness is entirely up to you.”

“You mean I could just drop being a Slayer and go back to school?” Ajaya’s brow furrowed. “You would let me do that?”

“We would,” Fletcher said slowly, “should you make that choice.”

“But?” Ajaya prompted.

“You don’t always get a choice about that part,” Buffy stepped in. “I tried not to be a Slayer several times, but it never really took. The Powers That Be have a tendency to push a Slayer toward her Calling.”

“Then I don’t have a choice,” Ajaya’s eyebrow rose.

“Even if you fulfill a Slayer’s duties, you still have many options,” Fletcher continued. “Many Slayers take temporary leaves of absence when something such as, say, school is more important to them at the moment.”

“I thought Slayers were exempt from school.”

“Exempt,” Buffy agreed, “but only if they want to be. I finished up my college degree and everything while slaying.”

“You are saying that I could continue my education?” Ajaya demanded clarification.

“We encourage our Slayers to do so, in fact,” Fletcher said. “We’ve found that they tend to need something in their lives outside the demon hunting world.”

“And who exactly are ‘we’?” Ajaya pressed him, a bit irked that no one would answer this one simple question for her.

Fletcher turned to the individuals behind him and got several nods before addressing her. “We are the chief division of SCBI in the United States,” he began.

“I know that,” Ajaya persisted, “but what does that mean?”

“It means,” Fletcher leaned over to look over the rim of his glasses at her, “that we are the world’s most elite squad of demon hunters. Those groups that you hear about on the news? That’s us. It is our mission to provide the safest, most efficient, and most fair-minded means of dealing with any and all supernatural forces.”

“Yet you work with demons and vampires?”

“It is our job to prevent supernatural beings from harming humans,” Fletcher clarified, “not to kill them indiscriminately. Our goal is to give demons the same justice that humans receive with regular law-enforcement.”

“You are not affiliated with the Council of Watchers then,” Ajaya observed.

“They are our most outspoken opponents,” the Ex-Watcher confessed. “They wish to maintain their…monopoly on the Slayers.”

“And you wish to take me away from them,” Ajaya concluded.

“Clever young woman,” Fletcher graced her with a brief smile. “Slayers are very hard allies to come by. We do indeed benefit greatly by each Slayer that chooses to side with us instead of the Watchers. However, we will not force you in this matter. Our…technique, if you will, is to provide a better lifestyle for our employees, so that we both benefit alike from working together.”

“It sounds nice enough,” Ajaya looked unconvinced, “but what does it mean?”

“It means that we abandon all the techniques the Watchers have been sticking to for centuries that don’t work,” Fletcher began. “We provide all Slayers with proper training before we send them out in the field. We give them proper supervision while they gain experience. We always have backup close at hand – and the most skilled backup, at that. We do everything we possibly can to keep our people alive, and that’s all our people, not just the Slayer. If you should ever find yourself in danger, we have over two hundred demon hunters at our disposal – at this facility alone – that will come to your aid.

“In addition, we do what we can to meet any other needs you might have. We create a comfortable home here that you can always come back to, if you should want it. We allow for education, employment—”

“And they pay you, too,” Buffy chimed in, “so you don’t get stuck in a dead end job because every time you get a good job, you get fired for dusting vamps at work or having demon guts on your suit. Not so nice fact about the Watcher’s Council: they refuse to pay their Slayers.”

“And, yes, there’s Buffy’s personal crusade as well,” Fletcher gave her an annoyed glance.

“It sounds too good to be true,” Ajaya commented softly.

“I helped create this group for exactly that reason,” Buffy said. “I hated the way the Watchers wanted me to do my job, so I found my own way. And I ended up being the longest-lived Slayer in over a century. The Council hated it, but my way worked better. So we just decided to keep expanding and expanding, and here we are today, all big and important in this huge mansion with everything from witches to vampires to werewolves working for us. It does work,” she insisted. “The Slayers that work for us have ten times the life-span of the Watchers’.”

“But they still die,” Ajaya said soberly.

Fletcher sighed. “I won’t lie to you. Many of our Slayers still die young. Nina – the Slayer you replaced – was only twenty. However, most Council Slayers never make it past eighteen. Nina is the youngest we’ve lost in over thirty years.”

“And not all Slayers die,” a middle-aged woman with graying blond hair stepped forward. “I believe this is where I come in?” she gave Fletcher a wry smile.

“By all means, Maddie,” he gestured for her to continue.

“My name is Dr. Madelyn Carmichael,” the woman extended her hand to Ajaya, “the Vampire Slayer,” she added with a sly quirk of the mouth.

Ajaya’s eyes widened. “You’re—?”

“Forty-seven, a family doctor, and still kickin’,” Maddie laughed at her reaction. “I’ve been a Slayer for thirty years now, and I’m pretty much retired. All I really do for the Scoobies anymore is impress new recruits.”

Fletcher gave her an annoyed look.

“It’s true,” Maddie insisted. “Don’t try to trick the girl. She’s too smart for you, Fletch.”

The Ex-Watcher let out a weary sigh. “I suppose so,” he admitted. “Well?” he turned to Ajaya. “What do you think?”

* * *

Isabelle awoke to the soft beeping sound of her watch alarm going off. Slayer reflexes allowed her to switch it off just before the third beep. She checked the time. 3:00 AM. Perfect.

She stayed still for about ten minutes to make sure that West hadn’t woken up. Her Watcher had the disturbing ability to wake up at the sound of a pin dropping. But apparently he hadn’t heard her alarm.

On tiptoes she walked over to the computer and quickly disconnected the laptop and slipped it into its travelling case. She caught hold of her shoes in her other hand and quietly slipped out of the door.

Only once she was down on the street did she dare put her shoes on. She ran the fifteen blocks to a small electronics shop and began banging on the door. It was another ten minutes before she heard grumbling on the other side.

“It’s three in the morning!” the voice screamed at her through the door. “We’re closed!”

“Mr. Lopez, it is me, Isabelle,” she called back. “This is a matter of greatest importance!”

The yelling at the other side of the door stopped. There was a brief pause. “Isabelle?” he finally asked tiredly.

“I would not disturb you at this hour if I had any other choice,” she insisted.

With a loud sigh, the door opened. “Come on in, dear,” the elderly man ushered her inside. However, he stopped her at the downstairs counter instead of letting her into the apartment in back where they usually conversed. “Now, what do you need?”

“I need the passwords for the restricted files on this,” Isabelle held the laptop out for his inspection.

“Nasty plan to bring hell to earth?” he joked wryly, turning the machine on.

“I don’t know,” Isabelle lied. “I can’t get into the files.”

“Well,” Mr. Lopez typed at the keyboard experimentally, “this doesn’t look too difficult. It should be about twenty minutes, dear.”

“Thank you so much,” Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t exactly been sure this plan would work.

“So, where’s the Watcher tonight?” Lopez asked, making small talk while he worked.

“He’s sleeping,” Isabelle shrugged. “He said I could handle this by myself.”

Lopez rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “A bit stuffy and over-bearing, isn’t he?”

“Don’t I know it!” Isabelle huffed, sitting down on the countertop and swinging her legs back and forth.

“Well, we’ll show him,” Lopez gave her a small smile and inserted a disk into the computer. “Wait till he sees how easy this password was to crack.”

“You’ve got it?” Isabelle exclaimed in excitement.

“Here you go,” Lopez hit a final key, and six apparently random digits appeared on the screen.

“This is fantastic!” Isabelle said in delight. “Can I try it?”

“It’s all yours,” Lopez yawned. “I’m going to bed. Can you lock the door on your way out?”

“Of course, Mr. Lopez,” Isabelle smiled at him, “and thank you very much.”

She typed in the number as he walked up the stairs, and opened the file labeled ‘Current Watcher Diaries’. And her jaw dropped.

A list appeared before her:

FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, MADELYN CARMICHAEL. STATUS: ROGUE.
FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, DEVORA STERVIK. STATUS: ACTIVE.
FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, MARIA VOIGHT. STATUS: ACTIVE.
FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, NGOZI ATUANNA. STATUS: ACTIVE.
FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, ISABELLE NAVARRO. STATUS: ACTIVE.
FILE FOLDER: SLAYER, AJAYA GUPTA. STATUS: UNKNOWN.

Isabelle quickly flipped through the files of the other active Slayers. They were all working under Watchers, and they were all still alive. That meant…

“He was telling the truth,” Isabelle’s brow furrowed.

She shut off her laptop and locked the door behind her when she left the shop. She quickly arrived back at her Watcher’s apartment and let herself back in. It was just a little after four. She put the computer back where she had found it and curled up on the couch. While trying to absorb the information she had just received, she finally fell asleep.

She didn’t notice her Watcher looking at her from the hallway and frowning…

* * *

“Last stop,” Buffy said as they came to a halt before a large stone wall in the middle of the garden.

“Saving the best for last?” Ajaya asked, glancing at the list of names carved into the wall. She couldn’t imagine that anything could blow her mind more than the underground training facilities she’d just visited. Hell, just watching that were-jaguar transform and back had been worth the entire trip.

“Actually,” Buffy said unusually solemnly, “I’m saving the worst for last. This,” she gestured at the list before them, “is the list of everyone who’s died for our cause.”

Ajaya swallowed slightly. There were at least a hundred names on the list.

“I won’t lie to you,” Buffy said seriously. “This is very dangerous work. A lot of people die, and a lot of people get seriously injured. More retire than die, of course, but we don’t want you to get the wrong idea. Your predecessor, Nina, had all the back-up we could provide, and it still didn’t arrive in time to save her.”

Ajaya kept her eyes fixed on the monument the entire time. “You knew these people?” she asked quietly.

“A lot of them,” Buffy agreed. “This is this list from our division, and since I’ve pretty much been around from the beginning…”

“Jennifer Calendar,” Ajaya read the first name on the list. “Who was she?”

“A techno-pagan,” Buffy answered. “She belonged to the tribe of gypsies that first figured out how to ensoul vampires. She tried to use the spell on a particularly nasty one, and he killed her for it.”

“How old was she?”

“Forty-one.”

“What about Kendra?” Ajaya continued to read down the list.

“A Slayer,” Buffy replied. “One of the Council’s. She died helping me, though. She was very brave and very strong.”

“Doyle?”

“One of Angel’s,” Buffy shrugged. “I only met him once or twice.”

“Darla?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “An evil, soulless vamp. Angel insisted we put her on, since she died to save their son.”

“Joyce…Summers?!” Ajaya turned to look at Buffy.

“My mother,” she nodded. “She actually died of a brain hemorrhage, but she supported me so well…” She trailed off.

“Tara McClay?” Ajaya persisted.

Buffy’s eyes watered for a second. “Willow’s girlfriend,” she explained. “One of my enemies tried to shoot me, but he missed and Tara… She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“So many…” Ajaya said thoughtfully.

“Here,” Buffy pointed about halfway down the list. “Rupert Giles. He was my Watcher. He was like a father to me, turned rogue and everything when the Council wanted to dispose of me…”

“How did he die?” Ajaya asked.

Buffy laughed slightly to herself. “Well, technically he did die in the line of duty,” she smiled nostalgically. “He was eighty-six and had had failing health for some time, but he still insisted on helping with all the research. God, he was a persistent and stodgy old man! So one day, he’s researching with the others, and he falls asleep. So five minutes later, Lily taps him on the shoulder, and he doesn’t wake up.” She absentmindedly wiped a tear away from her eyes. “He died peacefully and happily, doing what he loved.”

“I wish I could have met him,” Ajaya patted her shoulder lightly. “The way you speak of him, he sounds like a good man.”

“He was,” Buffy collected herself. “They were all good people,” she gestured to the names.

Ajaya moved to the final line, which was not even halfway to the ground yet. “Nina Hodge,” she read. “The girl that came before me?”

Buffy nodded.

Ajaya moved to the next pair of names up on the list. “Xander Harris, Anya Harris,” she read. “Related?”

“Married,” Buffy agreed.

“How did they die?”

“It’s a long story,” Buffy sighed, “and I’m not the best one to tell it…”

* * *

Of course, Isabelle still got a bright and early wake-up call at five AM. She spent the requisite three hours of grueling physical training with her Watcher, and by the time he told her to rest up before the night’s slaying, she was on the verge of collapsing. Isabelle decided that there would be no more nights of sneaking out. She just couldn’t handle it, even with her Slayer abilities.

She awoke in mid-afternoon, and Mr. West sent her out on her five-mile jog. It was actually the part of the day Isabelle enjoyed most. It was pretty much the only time she ever had to herself. This also meant that is was the perfect time to carry out her final decision from the evening before.

About halfway through her trip, she came to a stop at one of the pay videophones outside the main plaza. She quickly dialed the number she had memorized and waited.

“’lo?” a sleepy voice answered at the other end. In English, of course. Isabelle wasn’t quite sure what the word meant, but she guessed it was some greeting she’d never heard. The screen was a test pattern so she couldn’t see who she was calling.

“This is Isabelle Navarro,” she said in slow, unsure English.

“Lioness!” the voice at the other end instantly switched over to Spanish. “Didn’t think you would call me so soon.”

“You were right,” Isabelle said softly, so that no one nearby could eavesdrop. “There are six.”

“See? Even old vamps know a thing or two,” the voice on the other end was insufferably smug.

“What should I do?” Isabelle asked.

“You should meet me, so we can discuss the situation,” the vampire on the other end replied.

“I should trust you?” she said incredulously.

“Some place public then,” he said thoughtfully. “How about the Fiesta Club down on ninth? You know it?”

“Yes, of course,” Isabelle said. “It is prime vampire hunting ground.”

“Then, we’ll both be on even turf,” the voice at the other end chuckled slightly. “You’ve got humans at your back; I’ve got vamps at mine.”

“It will be difficult to get away from my Watcher,” she said hesitantly.

“Are you patrolling tonight?”

She nodded, and apparently he could see her at the other end because he responded.

“Good,” he said. “You’re going to cut off your patrol half an hour into it. You’re going to go to the Fiesta Club. And you’re going to wear something appropriate.”

“I-I’ll try…” she agreed nervously.

“See you there, Lioness,” he said before the line went dead.

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